“And yet these insolent monks have dared to
force me from the company of Elgiva to return to that
sottish feast, and what is worse, I find they have
dared to send her and her mother home under an escort,
so that I cannot even apologise to them. As I
live, if I am a king I will have revenge.”

“I trust so, indeed,” said Elfric, “they
deserve death.”

“I would it were in my power to inflict it;
but this accursed monk—­I go mad when I
mention his name—­is all too powerful.
I believe Satan helps him.”

“Still there may be ways, if you only wait till
you can look around you.”

“There may indeed.”

“Only have patience; all will be in your hands
some day.”

“And if it be in my power I will restore the
worship of Woden and Thor, and burn every monk’s
nest in the land.”

“They were at least the gods of warriors.”

“Elfric, you will stand by me, will you not?”

“With my life.”

“Come to the window, now; see the old sots departing.
There a priest, there a thane, there an earl—­all
drunk, I do believe; don’t you think so?”

“Yes, yes,” said Elfric, disregarding
the testimony of both his eyes that they were all
perfectly sober.

Just then his eye caught a very disagreeable object,
and he turned somewhat pale.

“What are you looking at?” said Edwy.

“There is that old fox, Dunstan, talking with
my father; he will learn that I am here.”

“What does it matter?”

“Only that he will easily persuade my father
to take me home.”

“Then the commands of a king must outweigh those
of a father. I have heard Dunstan say a king
is the father of all his people, and I command you
to stay.”

“I want to stay with all my heart.”

“Then you shall, even if I have to make a pretence
of detaining you by force.”

The anticipations of Elfric were not far wrong.
Dunstan had found out the truth. He had sought
out the old thane to condole with him upon the pain
he supposed he must recently have inflicted by his
letter.

“I cannot express to you, my old friend and
brother,” he said, “the great pain with
which I sent your poor boy Elfric home, but it was
a necessity.”

“Sent him home?” said Ella.

“Yes, at the time our lamented Edred died.”

“Sent him home!” repeated Ella, in such
undisguised amazement that Dunstan soon perceived
something was amiss, and in a few short minutes became
possessed of the whole facts, while Ella learnt his
son’s disgrace.

They conferred long and earnestly. The father’s
heart was sorely wounded, but he could not think that
Elfric would resist his commands, and he promised
to take him back at once to Aescendune, where he hoped
all would soon be well—­“soon, very
soon,” he said falteringly.